


Genesis

by walrucifer



Series: Tumblr Prompts [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelfic, Creation, Gen, Heaven!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walrucifer/pseuds/walrucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael, Lucifer and Gabriel watch the Universe being Created.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> "Something about the Creation"  
> \- anon
> 
> Fuck you, anon, you made me write Christian stuff and I don't like it. This does not agree with my religious views at all in any way. Oh well. I guess my Gnostic friends will like it.  
> For further info visit http://www.churchofsatan.com or http://www.greenday.com.

Small specks of light float into the open space, mingling with the dust of aeons and the newly born stars. The Heavens are ablaze with song and light, and everywhere, laughter and joy pervade the air. The Cosmos is a glorious sight; none can deny that. Angels flit and dart from star to star, Grace commingling with pure, inexplicable _joy_ , and greet and buoy one another as they fly and bask in the light of the new Sun. One little angel, golden-winged and golden-bodied, dips into the niches of a nearby nebula and swims around its brother, a larger, blindingly white creature of astonishing beauty. The stars themselves dim in comparison to the angels.  
The hum of Grace and the scent of ozone and petrichor fill the air. The golden angel unfurls six magnificent wings and gazes up lovingly at a new angel, a beautiful, incredibly pure being of the deepest black, and its joy overflows. _Hêlêl_. Brother, the golden little one thinks, and the black one folds gargantuan, onyx-coloured wings around it. The white angel touches its Grace protectively to them both, and nudges them with its wings.  
 _Gabriel. Hêlêl. Isn’t is glorious?_ it asks, and the two younger angels hum their agreement. Small bursts of platonic joy come from all three, and together, they are as radiant as the newborn Sun and more so.   
Purple and gold tinge the Heavens, and they flare up, happiness and wonder threatening to consume the little angels as they watch something new, something untold: Dawn. The Sun rises farther up the firmament, and clouds are coloured golden and silver and red and purple and pink, so brilliant and beautiful it hurts the angels’ eyes.  
 _Father did a good job, didn’t He?_ the white angel asks, wrapping its wings around the golden and black angels, and they nod and flit closer, Grace humming with pleasure. This is perfect to them; whatever went wrong with Creation in the first attempt is gone, and what they now behold is perfection, the quintessence of beauty and resplendence. It’s flawless.  
It’s theirs.


End file.
